


Apologies, My Dear

by helptheturtles



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, One Shot, Post-Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-18 21:12:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13108608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helptheturtles/pseuds/helptheturtles
Summary: Merle is surprised when John shows up to a thank-you party for the IPRE.





	Apologies, My Dear

**Author's Note:**

> It's about time I wrote some johnchurch, huh
> 
> This fic is based on a post made by tumblr user transmerle

“Merle?”

“Hm?” Merle glanced up from his drink, snapping out of his trance. Standing over him was Lucretia, dressed in a blue and white gown, holding a flute of champagne.

“Are you…well? You’re normally livelier than this at parties.”

Damn. He must have been spacing out for a while. “Sure, sure. There’s just a lot to think about today, you know?”

Lucretia grimaced. “I’m with you there.”

Today. The one month anniversary of the Day of Story and Song. Lord Artemis Sterling had insisted on throwing a party in his Neverwinter mansion, a thank-you to the IPRE for their sacrifice and bravery. Hundreds of citizens flocked through the doors, bearing gifts and gratitude, excited to meet the saviors of their plane. Merle was appreciative of the gesture, but couldn’t stop his mind from wandering.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you dressed up,” Lucretia said, nodding at Merle’s suit. “You always refused to put on formal wear for B.O.B. events.”

Merle smiled. “Figured it wouldn’t hurt. Never know who you’re gonna run into at these things. Maybe I’ll impress a Neverwintian with my dance skills.”

Lucretia chuckled. “You’ll have to get out on the ballroom floor first to test that theory.”

“I’ll be there, promise.”

“Good. It would be a crime to keep Professor Merle’s signature style from the rest of the world.” Her expression softened, and she knelt to squeeze Merle’s shoulder. “Today bears a lot of weight, for all of us. I’m here if you’d like to talk.”

“Thanks, Luce.”

Merle watched as Lucretia walked down the hallway and disappeared into the crowded ballroom. He stared back down into his glass, giving it a swirl. This party was symbol of victory, but also of great destruction. It marked their freedom, the beginning of a new and happy life, but also served as a reminder of all those lost, of everything left unsaid.

The dwarf downed the rest of his drink and placed the empty glass on the table beside him. Wasn’t he the one who preached dancing every day? He squared his shoulders, took a breath, and walked through the ballroom doors.

The music hit him like a wave, pouring over and around each of the guests. Everyone was dressed their best, sipping wine and enjoying the best hors d'oeuvres Sterling could afford. Merle recognized plenty of friendly faces. Carey and Killian were in the center of the floor, laughing as they bounced to the music. Angus, holding what Merle hoped was a soda pop, spoke to a group of scholars near the side of the room. Magnus was energetically recounting the events of last month to a large crowd, who seemed swept up in his story. As heavy the day was, the scene in front of Merle was a pleasant one, and he began making his way toward the thick of the crowd. A few people near him spoke in excited whispers, clearly recognizing him from the stories, and Merle nodded to them as he continued.

As the small band faded out their current song, Merle spotted Sterling himself shaking hands with one of the guests. The dwarf headed over to thank him, pushing past some taller members of the crowd. A new song flowed over the room, a waltz, and guests around Merle began partnering up. Just as he was about to reach Sterling, Merle felt a light tap on his shoulder, and heard a voice speak up from behind him.

“May I have this dance?”

Merle spun around to face a human man, dressed in a gray waistcoat and slacks. His salt-and-pepper hair was combed to the side, and his wrinkled face displayed his age. It was a face Merle had seen time and time again, often in his final moments.

“John.”

The man cleared his throat, eyes flickering around the room. “You may want to keep your voice down, Merle,” he muttered. “I’d rather not raise a scene.” John extended a hand toward Merle, an invitation.

Merle took it without hesitation, and a look of surprised ghosted John’s face before replaced with a slight smile. He led Merle to an emptier spot of the floor, away from prying eyes, and turned to face him.

“How long has it been since you danced?” Merle asked.

“If you’re concerned about my ability to lead, Merle,” John said, lifting the dwarf’s soul wood hand, “I assure you there’s nothing to worry about.”

“We’ll see about that. You do realize you’re talking to a dance teacher.”

“ _Former_ dance teacher. Besides, interpretive jazz is miles away from ballroom, in which, might I add, I’ve had plenty experience.”

“That so,” Merle said as he laid his other hand on John’s arm.

“Public speaking wasn’t my only interest, Merle.” John reached down to the dwarf’s back. He stepped forward, fingertips light against Merle’s shoulder blade.

“So,” Merle said as he stepped back, following John’s lead, “What took you so long?”

John glanced away from Merle. “I’m afraid my stay isn’t permanent. It’s taking…” John clenched his jaw. “It’s taking a lot of energy for me to be here.”

Despite the warmth of the ballroom, Merle felt ice in his veins. “Then why come back at all?”

The music picked up tempo, and the two fell into a rhythm of one-two-three’s, moving deftly around other guests. Merle, barely thinking of the steps, was intimately aware of the firm fingers on his back, and the man’s hand held in his own. As they waltzed around the room, they passed Davenport chatting with a halfling woman. The captain gave him a thumbs-up, and Merle realized no one else knew John’s face.

“This is a thank-you party, is it not?” John said. “I came to give my thanks. Especially to you, Merle.”

John was staring at him intently now, but Merle held his gaze, waiting for him to continue.

“After such cruelty, you only showed me kindness. I didn’t understand it for the longest time. It was vexing. Every parley, I thought of asking why you greeted your murderer as an old friend.” He paused, and Merle just barely felt his step falter. “It wasn’t until a month ago that I finally felt like I understood you. And by then, it was too late.”

Merle’s mouth felt dry. “It doesn’t have to be.”

“Merle, you don’t understand, I’m not-” John stopped suddenly, sucking in a breath and squeezing his eyes shut.

Merle nearly crashed into the man. “John? What…” He trailed off as his eye caught the side of John’s neck. A barely discernable sliver of black opal crept from under John’s collar, laced with red, green, and blue. Merle moved his hand off John’s arm and up to his neck, tracing the opal streak. It was cool to the touch and hard like stone.

Merle’s words came out as a croak. “Do you need rest? I can grab some water.”

“No, no I’ll be fine.” John said. He lifted Merle’s hand from his neck and placed it back on his arm. “Let’s continue. Please.” His voice sounded strangled.

After a moment of hesitancy, Merle nodded, and John once again stepped forward. They danced in silence for a while, letting the music wrap around them. Despite the hundreds of guests, Merle felt as though they were in the ballroom alone, just as they were back in the parley parlor. He’d tried to summon John to that space countless times over the past month, but all of his efforts were met with grief.

John rubbed his thumb over Merle’s wooden knuckles. “Do you remember our last parley? On the beach?”

“Clear as day.”

“I understand that, in the moment, I asked you to just sit with me. I said we didn’t have to speak.” John’s fingers pressed into Merle’s back, and Merle moved closer. “That was selfish of me. There was too much left unsaid.” One-two-three. “I wasn’t fair to you, Merle.”

John leaned down, closing the remaining distance between them. Merle’s hand gripped John’s shirt as the man spoke low and steady into his ear.

“I owe you an apology,” he said. “I was wrong, Merle. You showed me I was wrong. There _is_ joy, more than I ever realized.”

The waltz faded and the room broke out in applause. John didn’t step back, only let his fingers fall from Merle’s shoulder blade, and the dwarf released his hold on the man’s arm. Neither let go of each other’s hand.

Merle noticed a crack of black opal at the corner of John’s mouth. He began to reach for it, but John caught his wrist and lowered his arm back down. “I left a gift for you,” John said. “Something to remember me by.”

“I’m not letting you go that easy,” Merle said, squeezing John’s hand. “Not again.”

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice.”

Merle opened his mouth to speak, to say it didn’t matter, they’d find a way, they _had_ to find a way, when a familiar voice cut him off.

“Hey Merle,” Taako said as he approached the pair, “Artie’s about to start that speech. The one he wants us on stage for.” The elf glanced over to John, as though seeing him for the first time. “And who’s this dude?”

“This guy? Ah, uh, this is-”

“Peter,” John said, extending his free hand to the elf. “You must be Taako. Pleasure.”

Taako took John’s hand, quirking an eyebrow and giving Merle a vicious smile. “The one and only.” His ears flicked as he looked back at John, examining his face in closer detail. “Have we met?”

“Not as I recall.”

Taako shrugged and spun on his heel, continuing to talk over his shoulder. “I’m gonna find Barry and Lup. Peter, make sure Merle’s on that stage in three.”

“Will do.”

As Taako disappeared into the crowd, Merle turned back to John. “Sterling’s just gonna give us a medal or something. Nothing important. Let’s duck outta here, talk where there’s less people.”

“No, Merle,” John said. “You should go.”

“ _No_ , John.” Merle hoped the waver in his voice wasn’t noticeable. “This is more important than some shitty award.”

John sighed. “Lord Sterling threw this party just for the seven of you. It would be unkind to refuse such a modest request. Besides,” he said, looking into the crowd, “I just promised Taako you’d be there. Making sure you’re on that stage is the least I can do, given all the trouble I’ve put him through.”

“Fine! Fine. I’ll be right back.”

“Of course.”

A beat passed in silence before Merle slipped his hand from John’s grasp. He walked up the steps to the stage where the rest of the IPRE was waiting, and immediately scanned the audience. John stood in the center of the crowd and met Merle’s good eye, giving him a slight smile. As Lord Sterling began his speech, Merle could still feel traces of warmth on his soul wood hand.

Merle’s eye stayed locked with John’s for the duration of the ceremony. Time stretched longer than Merle thought possible, longer than during that final parley.

After bestowing his praises and calling for a toast, Lord Sterling presented each member of the IPRE with a medal. Being the last on stage, Merle was the final member to receive the award. The ruler of Neverwinter crouched down to place it over Merle’s head, and the crowd erupted in hoots, whistles, and applause. None of it registered with Merle, though, who was already making haste toward the side of the stage. His heart pounded in his chest as he tore down the stairs, pushing his way through the crowd toward the spot he last saw John. After squeezing past a couple half-orcs, Merle stopped short.

John was gone.

Merle’s palm began to sweat as he scoured the crowd. He ran through the ballroom, the hallway, the foyer. He asked if anyone knew the location of the man in a grey waistcoat. He searched the perimeter of the estate. He even called John’s name, not caring who heard him. After nearly an hour of searching, Merle finally slumped against one of the columns in the foyer, his pulse pounding in his throat.

He sat there for a while until his breathing steadied, his wooden arm clutching the medallion around his neck. Guests were still milling around the room, many giving concerned glances his direction. He waved them away and looked around the room, his eye lingering on the piles of presents lining the wall. Each were labeled for a member of the IPRE.

A gift. John had mentioned a gift.

Merle was on his feet again in an instant, checking the signs taped above the piles. He found his quickly and began combing through the gifts. Halfway through the pile, he came across a heavy, square present in dark green wrapping.

 _From John_ , read the tag.

Merle’s breath hitched as he tore open the gift. In his hands was a chessboard, the nicest he’d ever seen. A deep, polished oak lined the edges of the board, and the checked squares were made of marble and black opal. With trembling hands, Merle flipped the board over to find an engraving, carved in silver ink:

_Thank you for showing me a world where I should never stop dancing._

**Author's Note:**

> Can you tell I was only in ballroom dancing club for one semester
> 
> Come yell with me about johnchurch on my tumblr, merle-casts-zone-of-truth


End file.
